From One Sister to Another
by Ozlin
Summary: A short story involving Helen's promotion to rank twenty two. Likely to become a chaptered story that later involves OC's who's lives intertwine with the cannononical universe. Rated T for blood and possible swearing in later chapters.


From One Sister to Another

A short story involving the 'former' number twenty two and a look at just how Helen came to take her place. If you feel I have misrepresented Helen then by all means, complain at me in review form- I won't mind. This will most likely be a chaptered story as more free time is used to update it. Read and Review :)

Helen's thought upon receiving her first black card was that it had to be Deneve. Luckily her awful overseer had coughed up someone else's symbol and told her the warrior had requested that the nearest sister finish her off as soon as possible. It was a relief to be sure but approaching where the failing warrior was last known to be; Helen couldn't help but think that it wouldn't be over quick enough. She recalled briefly how she had, herself, almost Awakened not that long ago. It was a brutal pain that had sprung up so suddenly, there was almost no stopping the transformation at all- but somehow she made it through. If the carrier of the card was correct- her mystery job had been stuck in that state for almost three days. An almost unbearable idea.

The place was a shady wood not far from a town which still had the stink of yoma about it so Helen guessed that whatever was in there before had been powerful, or this sister had been garbage. With all the tame animals scuttling about it was also her assumption that this was some sort of game preserve, an odd place for someone to have to AwakenWhen those animals were absent it was her cue that she was close, however.

"Yo." Helen called out lazily, with no response. "Alright..." She sighed, trying her best to sense whatever yoki was being exuded from the struggling sister. Helen wasn't very good at reading the finer points in another's yoki aura, but what she felt certainly felt more like a yoma than a fellow warrior.

The feeling lead Helen downhill to where not only it could be sensed, but smelled as well. The disgusting purple of yoma's blood had oozed out of the warrior as she had wandered, staining the ground and the plants that it had fallen on. With a metallic grinding, Helen drew her sword in preparation of what was to come.

"You sent me your card, at least stay out in the open..." She grumbled.

"I sent you my card... you could at least be punctual..." Instinctively, Helen swung her sword at who spoke- narrowly decapitating the speaker. It would have been quite handy if she did, given the situation.

The sister was sitting stiff backed against a tree; her head hung low with her limbs slack and completely lifeless. She looked wonderfully human for all of the mess she left behind but even so- there was something quite off about her. She looked up and the top of her head bumped against Helen's sword which was still embedded within the tree.

"You missed."

"You're still well enough to be sarcastic." Helen commented roughly.

"I don't suppose you'll let me go if I said I was feeling better?" The nameless sister whispered with a smile.

With an exasperated groan, Helen pulled her sword out of the tree and sent a cascade of splinters into the warrior's long white hair. "You sent me a card..." She repeated angrily. "Why? I definitely don't remember your face."

Even if she had known this person it might have been entirely possible that she wouldn't be recognizable. Her skin was ashen, and her usually silver eyes were the golden slit pupils of a yoma's, and not to mention the puncture wounds up and down her torso.

"You were the closest, and I can't imagine forcing my friends to kill me anyway. What a horrible way to leave this earth." With great strain the sister moved her right arm and as she did so something shifted around underneath the skin. "I'll tell you my name, if you need that to kill me."

Helen stepped backwards, but didn't object.

"Yolanda... my name... was Yolanda. Number twenty two."

It was an odd sort of thing to hear, for Helen anyways. This warrior most likely began hunting before she did but there was no escaping the fact that she was only a single number away from her own standing. It almost seemed like she should have known her at least for the interest of her own promotion.

"Between the walking and now the reek, killing you has been a real pain." Helen frowned. "But as your junior, I'd be honoured to take your head if you don't want it anymore."

"You're quite crude... what's your name warrior?" Yolanda chuckled.

"Helen."

"Well Helen, may I ask something of you?" Yolanda gasped, her weary smile turning into a mask of pain.

"Uh, sure." Helen shrugged.

"I should like to die standing up." Yolanda groaned, struggling to her feet. For the first time Helen could clearly see Yolanda's symbol- a circle with a spike sticking out of each compass point.

"That wasn't a question, but whatever." Helen shrugged, readying her sword.

"Never mind my question; we don't have any time left anymore." Yolanda gasped She was wobbly, and her joints jerked around with the effort of keeping her yoma side in check. Purple, spidery veins were pressed up against her paling skin and her golden eyes had a bright sheen to them now.

"Ready?' Helen asked hesitantly.

"Yesss!" Yolanda hissed as her restrained yoki aura began to flow out of control. Her knees buckled and the air around her pulsed with energy and shone with an eerie blue glow- a glow Helen had only recently witnessed exude from herself. "And Helen... I hope that I am the only sister whose life you must take..."

"Better you than me!" Helen called over the din of the swirling air. Releasing some of her own yoki just to be sure, her arms swelled with strength allowing her to bear down on Yolanda's neck with an even greater force. Despite it all, there was a hesitation at the spine but it too fell away under Helen's deft swing.

Beheaded, Yolanda's remains fell limp, collapsing in a heap on the defiled moss.

Unable to regard the mess Helen turned away from the dead sister regretting that she didn't have the guts to bury her. If it were Deneve she would of, for sure. Even it was disrespecting a superior it just didn't seem right. Helen had never heard of bringing back the sister's head as proof before so this would just have to do. Let her damn handler take care of the proceedings.

* * *

><p><em>Why is it that this brutal process is called 'Awakening'?<em>

This is what Yolanda had been thinking about as Helen swung her sword in the arc that would decapitate her. It is the very same question she aimed to pester her murderer with before death. She heard the sword dig into the tree just behind her but that must have been after she had already been decapitated. After hearing the sickening thump that was her own body crumple all that she could perceive was a deaf, unending blackness that did nothing to stop her own thinking, somehow.

_What does it mean, when turning into a yoma is being awoken?_

Something hurt in Yolanda's lower back which seemed odd since the pain should have been coming from her neck. Even stranger than that was the fact that she sensed pain at all.

_Is it that being a human is nothing but a dream?_

A roiling motioned seethed through her torso and her numb legs jerked around. The sensation reached her shoulders and her arms became mobile, grasping around for anything to hold on to.

_Is that ideal restricted purely to the life of a Claymore?_

After grabbing hold of earthy roots, the pain shot up her spin and exploded in her neck where it should have started in the first place. The springy wood of the roots bent under the pressure of her grip as stabbing pains shot upward into her jaw.

_Did that mean even when I was a little girl, I had been dreaming?_

There was a swelling in her ears, pressure between her eyes and the feeling that her nose was being crushed. It was worse than the worst of all sicknesses and almost as unbearable as becoming a Claymore in the first place. But even so it wasn't less that the constant agony of Awakening.

_What will it be like, being awake?_

The feeling made its way into her head and sent pulses through her body, making her limbs shudder more and more. Without warning the pain was replaced by the sensation Yolanda thought she would have been numb to by now; the sense that her yoma power was spiralling higher and higher out of her control.

_If I'm still alive, then I couldn't have possibly awakened, could I have? Impossible. If I still fear Awakening, and losing my humanity- then surely I still have a hold of it? As long as I know I'm afraid I'm human, right?"_

Yolanda's senses returned as her yoki finally boiled away. Her dry mouth could taste blood, her nose detected sweat, soil and again blood. She could hear the birds and the wind that insisted on disrupting the tree's branches. With a moment of agony, the Claymore opened her eyes to find a hazy blur. She blinked away the sensitivity to the light that filtered down through the leaves and the image in her eyes focused.

On all fours, she was looking down at her pale hands that had become bruised, likely from the strain, but her fingers were all there and the appendages were without any sort of deformation. The moss around her fingers were splattered with both human and yoma blood which is where the smell was coming from and off to her left her sword was stuck in the ground, exactly where she had left it earlier. Looking around she managed to spy one of the most peculiar sights of her life, and that included everything she had seen within the organization's walls.

Not far from her right hand was the smooth unblemished face and flowing white locks that Yolanda was accustomed to seeing in the few mirrors she happened across. The thing's lips were parted slightly but its position was neutral and the eyes were closed. Yoki fluttered through her weakened body and the urge to vomit rose over it but with little food in her stomach relieving herself wasn't hard.

Her severed head couldn't explain what was going on, so Yolanda ran her fingers across her face which was clammy and raw but otherwise human. With a twinge of longing she realised that her hair was gone for whatever reason but with everything else that happened today it was easy to overlook.

Yolanda's mind scrambled for an explanation. She saw Helen strike. There were not one but two notches in the tree where Helen's sword had bit into it, just as it should have. Her head was on the ground. She had been awakening before, but now she was fine. Those were her clues but it hardly seemed to make sense. Could she have regenerated her entire head after having been executed? Was that possible, even for a defensive fighter such as herself?

"Helen!" Yolanda called hoarsely. "Where are you?" Her voice echoed around the trees but there was no one else around. "You didn't do a very good job of killing me!"

Tired, Yolanda's limbs gave out, sending her face first into the swill around her and staining her torn tights even more. If only she didn't have those heavy pauldrons strapped to her she might be able to move more freely.


End file.
